Friday, February 29, 2008

Scary Spice...with a penis.

Okay kiddies, something happened this week that forces me to tell you one of my papaw stories...

When the midge was at her college clubbing best, she once upon a time met a guy at a party, who, not unlike many guys she had met (ohgod sorry..I'm talking in the third person aren't I??..I'm creeping myself out..) was in the military with a totally hot bod and.......well....that was about it. But at the time, eye candy was all the midge required at the party and he fit the bill. He attempted conversation and the midge smiled, nodded and added a few polite smatterings of, "wow, really?, great, tell me about it, awesome.."
But mostly midge just wanted him to be quiet, stand there and look good. The night ended with him giving me a polite kiss on the cheek and a hug, where the midge took the opportunity to feel up his back muscles. Nice, she thought, too bad he was kind of a himbo. He made mention about being at a club the midge frequented often that coming weekend and how he hoped to see the midge there.
Lo and behold, the himbo was at at the club that Saturday as he promised. The midge said hello and was pleased that he cleaned up real nice for the club. Maybe, the midge thought, if I drink two more shots, his yammering will start to become remotely interesting....
The midge drank a shot and asked him to dance. He hemmed and hawed and said something about not being much of a dancer to which the midge thinks; hmmm, a man who can't dance = dead fish rabbit humper. (Right ladies? Hollah). So the midge bid him farewell and politely told him that she'll see him about the same time, another fine young gentleman with equally impressive muscles asked the midge to dance. I later found out that not only could white boy dance, he could hold his own during a conversation and did things like "read." Midge was hooked.

Little did Midge know, Himbo was hovering behind the midge the whole time, angered by her actions. Later, his friend approached the midge and spoke in a different language ("hey guh, why you be dissin' my boy?"). The midge let this strange question process and minutes later, she finally got what he was asking. How, pray tell, am I "dissin' your boy?, the midge questioned. And out of nowhere himbo charged at the midge and began yelling at the top of his lungs...
"You ain't nuttin' by a tease! You ain't nuttin' but a tease!"
While the midge was impressed at his ability to piece together a sentence she was befuddled by his emotional outburst. Why so mad himbo? Is it that time of the month? the midge asked. Because, correct me if I'm wrong, last I checked you're not my boyfriend right? Not my husband? Not my daddy? I just gave you a hug right? We're hug acquaintances at best. Okay. Just checking.

But himbo was not having any of it because apparently, in himboland a hug and a peck on the cheek means "I do." He then told the male gentleman I was getting my groove on with that "he should just give it up because I was a tease and I didn't put out." (Thank you!! Finally, somebody got the message!)

Male gentleman called him "a little bitch" and we went along our merry way.

So what ever happened to himbo you ask???
(Okay so maybe you didn't but this is why I'm telling this story right now...)

He just found the me on Myspace and REQUESTED TO BE MY FRIEND!

This is disturbing because why? Why would he request to be my friend after the little bitch incident at the club and most importantly, did he actually REMEMBER my FULL NAME? How did Screamin' Sally find me?


(Oh, and you now know muscular gentleman as viking hubby. What? did you think I'd pass up a white boy who could dance???? My momma didn't raise no fool.)


IDigHootchAndCootch said...

yeah, myspace just totally freaks me out, like that.

The Immoral Matriarch said...

Your blog doesn't like me. I left a long ass comment twice and it never showed up.


Joseph said...

Shit, girl! I guess when you hug 'em, the done stayed hugged. Never know how much I love ya.....

jali said...

Love this story. (the romantic part about meeting "your lobster" -not the scary himbo stalking you part)

Ask the Viking to make a friend request - he'll remember who called him little bitch.